


Before

by frostedroyaltea



Series: Alexandrite [5]
Category: Daredevil TV, No Fandom
Genre: Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Organized Crime, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre Season/Series 1, Pre-Canon, Russian Mafia, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostedroyaltea/pseuds/frostedroyaltea
Summary: After his parents deathsBefore America
Series: Alexandrite [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884145
Kudos: 4





	Before

“This is him?”

Ivan stared down at his clasped hands hoping the Pakhan’s verdict would let him leave alive. He had what was called a ‘panic attack’. One of them, Ivan couldn’t remember his name, had tried to teach him to shoot because he was “at that age now” whatever the hell that meant. It had ended in him sobbing and being backhanded because he couldn’t calm down enough to breath.

“Yes.”

The pakhan stooped down Ivan’s height. He lifted Ivan’s chin with the knuckle of his index finger. “Want to explain why that incident occurred?”

Ivan swallowed and forced himself to lift his eyes to meet the pakhan’s. He swallowed. “I don’t know sir.” He swallowed. Blood. Bodies falling. Red spreading across white linen.

Ivan willed the tears prickling behind his eyes to stay where the belonged lest he be punished for it.

His eyes flickered around, trying to avoid the pakhan’s steely gaze. The pakhan’s chest was covered in tattoos. Stars, bellow his collar bones. Epulets on his shoulders. A celtic cross on his chest. A church on his belly, the number of cupolas on it growing when he would inevitably leave the city, end up arrested, and eventually return, recruits in tow.

One of the men behind him, Ivan didn’t know his name either but knew it started with a ‘П’ had his chest covered but could see tattoos peaking out from rolled up sleeves. There was a rose intertwined with barbed wire, the twists in the barbed wire signifying how many years were spent in jail. Manacles on his wrists, broken chains trailing off them. He had rings tattood on his fingers. One Ivan knew to be the mark of orphans, надейся только на себя. Trust no one. 

Ivan knew the mark would probably find its way to his body. And how ironic it would be when it did.


End file.
